A Game of Groans: A Sonnet of Slush and Soot Read Online Free Page B

We-Had-Several-Amazing-Jokes-About-Him-Specifically-Some-Baseball-Oriented-Chuckles-Centered-Around-His-Last-Name-but-the-Legal-Department-Made-Us-Take-Them-Out?”
    Head nodded sadly, at both the loss of his wife’s brother and the genius sports humor. “He’s gone, my love. Lord Functionary Aaron has passed on. The Foot of the King is dead.”
    A tear ran down Gateway’s muddy cheek. “Poor Lysergic. Whatever will she do without her plot point of a husband?”
    “Who cares?” Head mumbled. “Your sister’s a queynte.”
    “Wow,” Gateway said, “I’ve never heard you use the Q word. But yes, Lysergic is a queynte, but still.” She took a deep breath, then sighed. “It was only a matter of time, I suppose.”
    “What do you mean?” Head asked.
    “The King’s Foots have notoriously short lifespans, dear.”
    Head exclaimed, “ Whaaaaat? That’s crazy talk. Advisers to the King live as long as anybody else. Everything is one-hundred-percent copacetic.”
    “What about Mayce Windu?”
    “Oh, right. A mysterious death by overacting.”
    “And Orvylle Redynbacher?”
    “A mysterious death by choking on popcorn.”
    “And Swyfty Lazyr?”
    “A mysterious death by suffocation.”
    “And Stumpy Pepys?”
    “A mysterious death by drowning.”
    “And Stumpy Joe Chylds?”
    “A mysterious death by fire.”
    “And Petyr Jaymes Bond?”
    “A mysterious death by bludgeoning.”
    “And Mick Shrymption?”
    “A mysterious death by dismemberment.”
    “And Functionary Aaron?”
    “Nobody knows how he died. It was very mysterious.”
    “And there you have it.”
    As they walked back toward the castle in silence, Head fingered his sword. Gateway noticed and asked, “Something wrong with Slush?”
    Head removed his sword from its house and swooshed it through the air. It wobbled from one side to the other, flapping like a willow tree in the midst of a windstorm in a field of willow trees. “Slush is fine,” he boasted defensively. “Slush was made from Corinthian leather, and nothing will hurt Slush, thus nothing will hurt me. Ever .”
    “I don’t know about that, Head,” Gateway opined. “From what I gather, nothing will stop whatever’s behind the Wall. Not even Corinthian leather.”
    “Gateway, I know my own needs, and what I need from a sword, I know I get from Slush. I could ask for nothing beyond the quality of Slush’s workmanship. I request nothing beyond the perfection of the softest Corinthian leather. Yet it is on the battlefield where Slush answers my demands. I get much more from this sword than great comfort at a most pleasant price. It gives me great confidence, for which there can be no price. With Slush, I have what I need.”
    “You sound like a car commercial.”
    “Maybe I do, Gateway,” Head consented, “but it is a sword so fascinating, that it has captured the hearts of many. Slush is the most successful new personal-sized luxury sword in the last five Summers, and here’s why: Slush combines luxury and class at an affordable price. See Slush now at your Chrysler-Plymouth dealer.”
    “First of all, Summerseve doesn’t have a Chrysler-Plymouth dealer. And second of all, what’s with the accent? You suddenly sound like that jerkoff kid of yours.”
    Ignoring her, Head barreled on: “Elegantly designed. Luxuriously appointed. And now is the time to buy Slush here in Easterrabbit, because it is priced to give you the value you have been looking for. You see, it is the end of the model Summer for your Chrysler-Plymouth dealer, so if you purchase Slush now, you’ll get an excellent deal on the Slush you want, ready for immediate delivery. Don’t hesitate. Experience Slush while it is such an unbelievable value.”
    Gateway Barker touched her husband’s flaccid sword and said, “Whatever you say, dear.” Looking up at the sky, she wondered aloud, “Hey, is it 4:20 yet?”

HEADCASE
    After a rumble jarred Lord Headcase Barker out of a sound slumber, he mumbled,